


ink blots

by Fandom_Trash224



Series: Batfam Beyond AU [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman Beyond, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asphyxiation, Attempted Murder, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode Related, Gen, Near Death Experiences, Rated For Violence, Terry McGinnis is Batman, Whump, some minor hurt/comfort elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23860954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandom_Trash224/pseuds/Fandom_Trash224
Summary: Someone has been sabotaging corporate assets in Gotham, and all evidence points to Powers being the one behind it. It's up to the vigilantes of Gotham to uncover what's going on, but Terry's inexperience may end up being his undoing.(based on the batman beyond episode "Black Out". actually it's just. the episode but reworked to fit the au.)
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Terry McGinnis & Damian Wayne, Terry McGinnis & Stephanie Brown, Terry McGinnis/Dana Tan
Series: Batfam Beyond AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710604
Comments: 5
Kudos: 100





	ink blots

**Author's Note:**

> the entire time i was watching the episode while writing, i was just shouting at the screen "PLEASE HES ONLY 17 STOP" and then i made it worse, so im sorry about that.
> 
> also, i may not be a medical expert, but i don't CARE how strong your suit is. if you smack someone with enough force, they're going to BRUISE. they're going to HURT. 
> 
> anywho. terry sweetie im so sorry, and dottie im also sorry for making u cry while beta-ing (but not rlly.)

“Hello Bruce, Damian. Come in, come in!” Derek Powers’ voice was, as always, that annoyingly pleasant “sleazy businessman” tone that made Damian itch for his old sword. “What a pleasant surprise-- Oh dear. Damian, what  _ happened _ ? Your eye, and your  _ ankle _ \--”

“You know how it is, Mr. Powers,” Damian plastered on his best “millionaire playboy’s son” smile. “You go out, you have fun, you have the genes of one of the  _ clumsiest  _ drunks on the planet… accidents happen.”

“Like father, like son, eh, Bruce?”

Bruce didn’t bother with a reply. He was more than content to be a crotchety old man towards Powers, so long as Damian did his best to be the civil one. Good cop, bad cop, except instead of cops, they were shareholders for a rival company. 

“We really only came by to talk to you about some  _ strange _ things that have been happening,” Damian continued, watching as his father drifted towards the various strange statues in the office. Damian’s own eyes drifted to Powers’s desk, just in time to watch the older man quickly flip the folder closed. “Someone’s been targeting the major companies here in Gotham. First us, then Queen. We’re mostly just worried that you’ll be the next target, you know? Wanted to warn you to be careful.”

“Ah, dear Damian, I appreciate the sentiment, I truly do! However, I have a feeling that Powers Technology is going to be  _ just _ fine— Ah, Bruce, please don’t touch that. It’s  _ very _ delicate.”

Damian turned around to see his father’s hand outreached towards one of the statues, a napkin in his hand. Powers wouldn’t have been able to notice, but Damian watched him take a discreet wipe at the statue as he turned to face them, folding the napkin and using it to dab at his forehead.

“And you always taught me to keep my hands to myself, Father.” Damian said, the joke half-genuine, half-forced. 

“What makes you think your company is safe from these attacks?” Bruce asked bluntly, quick to the point. “Do you know something we don’t?”

“Why,  _ Bruce _ , I’m  _ appalled _ ! Would I be the type of man to know something about these…  _ horrendous _ attacks and  _ not _ give the information over to the authorities?”

Yes, he would, and Damian knew that, but he couldn’t say it. Neither could Bruce.

“I’m afraid I’ve got another appointment coming up, so I’ll have to ask you two to leave. May I accompany you to the waiting area?”

“Of course, Mr. Powers,” Damian said, walking with the two older men onto the elevator platform. “This is  _ your _ building, after all.”

Powers laughed, that fake, obnoxious sort of thing that only made Damian want to stab him more. As they descended into the waiting area, all three gazes hit Terry, who was looking rather uncomfortable in the chair. 

“The McGinnis boy?” Powers questioned, raising an eyebrow. Terry all but lept out of the chair, walking towards the group with a barely-controlled sour expression.

“I work for the Waynes now.” Terry spat, and Damian made a mental note to talk to him about his public persona. 

“Ah, yes…” Powers drawled, a slight smirk on his stupid face. “I suppose with your father gone, that  _ would  _ make you the breadwinner.”

Terry tensed, and Damian couldn’t blame him. Calling Powers a snake was an insult to snakes everywhere, and Damian would’ve given anything to watch the teen beat the man to a pulp. Unfortunately, before anything drastic could be done, Bruce interceded, guiding both Damian and Terry towards the elevator doors and leaving Powers behind to go back up to his office.

“So, did you two beat it out of him?” Terry whispered, and Damian shook his head minutely.

“No, we did not.” Damian said, exasperated. There was  _ more _ to being a vigilante, to being a  _ hero _ , than beating people up and ruining bastards like Powers, but that would have to be another conversation they had later.

“We do have some things to look at, however,” Bruce added on, just in time for the elevator to arrive. The three of them entered, Terry sliding his hands in his pockets.

“So, it’s okay if I get some time on my own tonight?”

“I wouldn’t count on it.” Damian said with a smirk, which only grew bigger when Terry shot him an annoyed look just as the elevator doors closed.

\---

Someday, Terry swore he was going to beat the  _ shit _ out of Nelson Nash. Not just for hitting on Dana right in front of him, but because, in Terry’s humble opinion at least, he just  _ deserved _ it. 

“Is it wrong for me to root for the other team?” Dana scoffed, and Terry was once more reminded as to why he absolutely  _ loved  _ her. 

“Not under the circumstances,” he replied, flashing her a teasing smile, one that Dana mirrored.

“I’m glad you came out,” Dana said, her voice growing softer as she added, “I know it’s still gotta be tough…”

Terry didn’t want to think about that. It had been almost two weeks since his dad’s death at that point, and he had been doing his best to get over it as quickly as possible. Any time he felt the bitter taste of grief and regret in his mouth, he focused on training, or volunteered to go on patrol, or even hung out with his little twip of a brother. Anything to keep his mind off it.

So, instead of acknowledging what Dana said, he turned to look at her, a slight smile on his face as he leaned in, and Terry couldn’t help but feel  _ relief _ . He hadn’t had a chance to be with Dana one-on-one since his father’s death, not between his new dayjob and school and vigilante-ing, and in that moment, everything else disappeared. It was  _ him _ and  _ Dana _ and the ever-smaller distance between their lips.

So, of course, his phone began to ring. 

_ For fuck’s sake-- _

“Yeah?” Terry answered as he pulled the phone out of his bag. Not the most formal greeting, but he was more than a little peeved. Sue him.

“McGinnis.” Damian’s voice was clipped over the phone. Terry wanted to groan, but figured he’d be in trouble if he did, so he kept it in. “We require your assistance.”

“But--”

“Cass is unable to help. She was injured on patrol last night and is on bed rest. Father has requested you here,  _ now _ .”

“On my way…,” Terry sighed out, hanging up. He couldn’t just leave them hanging like that, especially with Cass out for the night and all the sabotage going on.

“The Waynes?” Dana asked, and, frankly, Terry felt terrible for leaving her hanging again. The first time they had tried to hang out, Terry had to cancel at the last minute because Damian and Bruce decided Terry needed to work on his fighting form. She hadn’t been happy about it, and he knew she only let it go because she knew his family needed the money. 

He didn’t like being pitied, even if it was by his own girlfriend.

“Yeah,” Terry replied, his tone as apologetic as he could make it. “I’m really sorry.”

“Sure got you on a short leash, don’t they?” Dana asked, and Terry almost winced at the bitterness in her voice.

“You know how rich kids are, they need me.” When she turned away from his sorry attempt at a joke, he  _ did _ wince. “I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t  _ normal _ !” Dana exclaimed, and Terry had to turn and walk away right then, or else he’d say something that he’d probably regret later. 

“You have no idea…,” he muttered, making his way through the crowd.

\---

“Hey Oracle, you there?”

“I always am, Batman,” Barbara’s voice was crisp and clear in Terry’s ears. “What’s up?”

“Is there any time of day I get to have a social life? Or does that not come ‘till later?”

“Depends. Some of us juggle it better than others.” 

“Not in this business.”

The two voices of Barbara and Bruce overlapped each other, and Terry had to fight back the sigh at Bruce’s answer.

“You get a real kick out of this, don’t you Wayne? You know, maybe it should be Bateleur up here instead of me.”

“He’s still injured, remember? Besides, he’s doing his part.”

“Which is  _ what _ , again?” Terry asked, landing on top of a nearby building.

“We did some digging after we saw a report on Powers’ desk.” Damian’s voice was distant, yelling from somewhere else in the cave. Probably one of the examination desks. “According to Lucas, Wayne Enterprises, Queen Industries, and Powers Technology are all up for the same job.”

“The government wants a new lunar station,” Bruce explained. “And only one of them gets to build it.”

“So Powers is crippling the competition with sabotage,” Terry finished. Of course he would. Powers was a slimy, lying scumbag with human skin that got his father killed over his shitty nerve gas. Of  _ course _ he would stoop low enough to put innocent lives in danger to get what he wanted.

_ Bastard. _

“So, until we can stop him,” Oracle chimed in, her voice upbeat, “You’re the unofficial guardian angel of both Queen Industries and Wayne Enterprises. Now, you seeing what I’m seeing, Batman?”

Terry looked down from his vantage point into the building, a WayneTech research center, squinting slightly to get a better look. Through the glass domed ceiling, Terry could see sparks flying, clear as day. That probably wasn’t normal.

“Looks like someone’s celebrating July fourth a bit early. And in their office.” Terry stood, and, as he lept, announced, “I’m going in.”

As he fell towards the dome, he opened his wings, allowing him the ability to fall straight through the glass and land into a roll without much hassle. He kept low to the ground for a moment, the feeling of being watched causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand. Movement caught his eye, but when he whipped his head around to see what it was, there was nothing.

Vague memories of a fourteen-year-old Terry having a similar situation before spending three months in juvie had the current version of him on high-alert, causing him to creep through the damaged area, scanning the room for any sign of whoever had caused the destruction. Instead, he found a piece of metal with some sort of substance on it. He crouched, picking it up and pressing a finger into it. It made a slight squelching sound, the gooey texture reminding Terry of that congealed ink on the old pens his grandparents used to let him doodle with.

_ Weird _ .

Before he could inspect it any further, however, a voice came over his earpiece.

“McGinnis, get out of there!” Bruce’s voice was commanding and somewhat frantic. Terry rolled his eyes.

“In a second,” he said, exasperated. “I’m lookin’ around.” 

“I said get out,  _ now _ !”

“Why? What’s the--” Terry turned around just in time to see the large, black object flying towards his face moments before it impacted, sending him flying straight into one of the few still-intact monitors.  _ Figures _ .

He groaned as he hit the floor on his hands and knees, glaring up at the inky mass in both contempt and anger. Suddenly, it bounded towards him, wrapping around his torso before smashing him around to other various monitors before just  _ flinging _ him into one of the center consoles, the machinery breaking his fall as it hit the floor with him.

His chest  _ ached _ . While he knew the suit prevented him from getting any broken bones, he had found out the hard way that bruises and scrapes were still  _ very _ much on the table. He was going to have to figure out a story behind them for his mom.  _ Again _ . He really hoped the several minor electrocutions he just had didn’t leave any sort of scarring.

Terry managed to flip onto his back in time to see the inky mass push itself through the vent, and as the last bits of it disappeared, he took a moment to collect his thoughts before stating them in the most eloquent way a Gothamite could.

“What the  _ fuck _ was that?”

\---

“What did you send me after? It was like some kinda-- some kinda blob thing!” Terry was shouting at the two Waynes, who were looking a lot less than intimidated by the young man’s anger, which really only served to fuel it. “You should’ve warned me!”   
  
“We tried,” Bruce replied calmly. “You need to learn to think on your feet.”

Terry  _ wanted _ to say that he  _ did _ know how to think on his feet, thank you very much. He had been thinking on his feet since he was ten, and he was pretty damn proud of the fact that it had kept him out of trouble for as long as it had. It had certainly kept him safe while he was in juvie, and when Nelson decided to try and mess with him, and when The Jokerz terrorized innocent people, and when he  _ stole the fucking batsuit _ \--

“Look.” Terry pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to collect himself for a moment before continuing, “You may be used to dealing with freaks and monsters, but I’m a little new at this!”

“That much is obvious,” Damian muttered, and if Terry didn’t know he would’ve had his ass handed to him for it, he would’ve punched the jerk in the nose then and there. Bruce sighed, walking over to the batcomputer, pulling up a file. Probably to try and distract the two of them so a brawl wouldn’t break out. 

“Here. Her name is Inque. She’s a corporate saboteur. Interpol’s been after her for years, even the League has an eye out for her. It looks like Powers is her new employer.”

“What  _ is _ she?” Terry asked, making his way closer to the computer. There was no picture on file for her, but he didn’t think he’d ever forget what she looked like. 

“The result of a mutagenic experiment. The details aren’t known.”

“So how do we stop her?”

Bruce turned to Terry, a slight smile on his face. “That’s where thinking on your feet comes in.”

\---

“This is  _ so _ schway!” Terry exclaimed with a grin, fiddling with a few of the nodules on the console above before placing the hand back onto the stick. He watched with fascination as a red grid slowly lit up the arm of his suit.

“Remember, easy gestures,” Bruce said through the comms. “Let the suit do the work.”

It was at that moment that, with a small flick of his wrist, the plane went full throttle, and Terry couldn’t help but give a shout of pure elation as he sped through the air, zipping between the buildings of Gotham with ease.

“Could you please refrain from doing that?” Damian’s voice was flat over the comms, and Terry felt his face grow hot beneath the cowl.

“Sorry.”

Bruce’s voice came back, using his special brand of dryly amused tone as he spoke. “You scratch it, no allowance.”

Terry rolled his eyes and decided to focus on the fact that he was flying the fucking  _ batmobile _ .

“McGinnis, Oracle just picked up a transmission,” Damian’s voice once again rang through the cockpit. “Queen’s shipping unit. Pier 18.”

Terry gave a slight nod, shifting into the closest thing he had to a business mode as he maneuvered the batmobile. “I’m on it.”

As he shot off into the night, he could only hope that he got there before any major damage was done. 

\---

Okay, so  _ maybe  _ trying to tackle a living blob of ink wasn’t exactly the  _ best _ idea in the world.

Inque shifted out from underneath him with ease, practically flush against the floor before re-forming just a few feet in front of him. Before Terry could even react, she sent two solid punches towards him, each hitting him in the face in succession. Okay. Plan “A” didn’t work, time for a Plan “B”.

Terry shot two batarangs from his suit’s wrist-launcher, feeling a bit of pride that they hit before it was quickly washed away as the two objects were reflected back towards him. He managed to duck beneath one, but the other sliced into his side. He let out a cry of pain, hand instantly flying there to make sure he wasn’t bleeding. The suit, thank goodness, had held up. No explaining to Mom about having a giant gash in his side.

Within seconds, she lunged at him, and he flipped towards her as well, using his momentum to pull up a manhole cover to use as a shield. As soon as he did, he wanted to yell at himself for being an  _ idiot _ , because of  _ course _ it had holes in it. Holes that Inque used to grab hold of him, an appendage that he assumed was meant to be where her face was getting up close and personal.

“Not exactly a fast learner, are you?” She taunted, and Terry had to grit his teeth from both the anger overwhelming him and the strain at keeping her back. With a surge of strength, he managed to use the cover to squash her to the pavement, but it didn’t last. She was much stronger than him, her fluid body allowing her to slip from beneath the manhole just enough to grab it from Terry and send him sprawling with it. 

_ Ow. _

Terry forced himself to his feet again as Inque began to run (not really  _ run _ , she wasn’t— she didn’t have the  _ legs _ to run) away, using all his stamina and then some chase after her, even as she jumped down to a lower section. He opened his wings once more, using them to not only slow his fall, but to cut Inque off at the pass. He watched as she frantically looked around for a way out, watching  _ closely _ as she glanced to the water on either side of her with a slight tremble, and something suddenly  _ clicked _ in Terry’s mind.

“You don’t like the water, do you?”

“No,” Damian said, and Terry could’ve  _ sworn _ there was a hint of faintly pleasant surprise in his tone. “She does not.”

Terry couldn’t help but mentally give himself a pat on the back as he kicked a bit of the water in the reservoir to his left towards her. She gasped, maneuvering herself out of the way of the spray and somehow managing to  _ glare _ at Terry without actually having a face. Then, she shoved herself between the cracks in the tiles at their feet, and Terry barely had time to think “oh shit” before he was having to outrun the now-exploding floor. He wasn’t fast enough, however, and Inque managed to catch him in a wave of her form, lifting him into the air before dropping him down the side of the pier.

He tumbled down the sloped concrete for a moment before he managed to right himself, using the fins and heels of his suit to slow his fall, sparks flying. The screeching they made left his ears feeling like they were bleeding. It wasn’t enough to stop him from hitting the ledge with enough force to send him toppling into Gotham Harbor. 

By the time he managed to pull himself up onto another section of the pier, coughing and spluttering for air as he flopped onto his back with exhaustion, Inque was gone.  _ Again _ .

\---

“Hold still.” Stephanie’s voice was quiet but firm as she gently cleaned and inspected the various scrapes and bruises on Terry’s body. He couldn’t help but wince as her pinky brushed against the bruise on his cheek while cleaning the small scrape along his head. 

“Sorry.” The apology was automatic, falling from his lips for the dozenth time since she started looking over him. The good news was that most of the injuries were only superficial, which meant he wouldn’t need to go to a clinic or anything. He hadn’t even bruised his ribs like he thought during his first round with Inque, so he should’ve figured it would’ve been fine, but still… It was weird.

Bad news, of course, was that he’d have to explain it to his mom and brother. And Dana. And anyone else who asked.  _ Ugh _ , why did Terry have to know so many people?

“If you want,” Steph said, putting away the first aid kit, “I can teach you how to use makeup to hide them. It won’t work for your mom or brother, but it could at least keep most of the public off your back.”

“Are you sure?” Terry asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t  _ unaware _ of the wonders of makeup, but a lot of his bruises were nasty, and he wasn’t sure  _ any _ amount of concealer would hide them. 

“Trust me, I know a thing or two about hiding bruises. Most of us do, actually. I’m pretty sure most of us could qualify as professional make-up artists at this point, so it makes sense to pass at least a few tricks down to the newest member of the family.”

“Thanks,” Terry said, his voice slightly strained despite his best efforts to hide it. “I really appreciate it.”

Something flickered in Stephanie’s eyes, though Terry couldn’t really tell what it was. He was bone-tired, and his mind wasn’t working nearly as sharply as it had while fighting against Inque. He hoped it wasn’t pity. He wouldn’t be able to take that from her, not right then. He wasn’t just some stupid kid to be blamed or pitied when things went wrong, he was  _ trying _ , dammit. He was new, and inexperienced, but he was  _ trying _ . He didn’t need their pity. He didn’t  _ want _ it. 

He was good enough to be Batman, and he was going to  _ prove _ it, no matter how long it took.

... _ Fuck _ , he was tired.

“Hey, you did your best today. Bruce and Damian know that, even if they give you a hard time. That’s all that matters.” Stephanie smiled at him, rubbing his less injured shoulder lightly. “We should probably get you home so you can get some rest. I can teach you tomorrow, since it’s the weekend. We’ll think of a cover story on the way.”

“Yeah. Sleep sounds pretty schway right about now.”

Stephanie laughed, helping him up before handing him his shirt and jacket. “I’m sure it does, Ter, now let's go.”

\---

The moment Terry dropped out of the batmobile, he had already taken in the destruction and knew he was too late, opting to say as much to the others over the comms. Bruce had to go to some charity event that night, and Cass was still recovering (no matter how frustrated that made her), so it was just Terry, Damian, and Oracle. 

Terry ran up to the doors of the Wayne Enterprises building, apparently some kind of extra research center, examining the scene for any evidence of Inque. As he moved, however, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he tensed for a moment as he glanced around.

“Hey O,” Terry said quietly, “Can you see anything weird going on?”

“Most of the cameras in the area are fried, and I can’t pick anything up from the usual scanners, so no. Why?”

“No reason,” Terry said, cautiously kneeling down before a puddle of Inque’s, well,  _ ink _ , and sticking a finger into it. “Had a bad feeling.”

“It’s good to trust your instincts,” Damian said, “But there’s nothing else you can do there. Come back to the cave so we can plan our next step.”

“Got it,” Terry called the batmobile back, climbing into it with ease. As he took off into the night, however, he couldn’t ignore the small nagging sensation in the back of his mind that  _ something _ was off. Whatever it was, it would have to wait until he was back in the cave.

\---

“The car’s feeling kinda sluggish tonight,” Terry announced as he flew into the cave. “Think we can run a quick diagnostic?”

“Park it and we will,” Damian said, and so Terry did. Before Terry could even fully exit it however, Damian was suddenly standing at full attention. Terry realized that he was in almost full Bateleur gear, minus the mask and the coat, and he began to make his way over.

“What’s--”

“It’s too heavy,” Damian said, horror creeping into his voice. Terry felt dread seed itself into his stomach, his senses hitting high alert instantly. Damian turned to look at Terry, his eyes widening as he shouted, “Look out!”

Terry didn’t have time to fully turn around before Inque was forming herself, grabbing him by the throat and flinging him around the Cave like a ragdoll. He couldn’t even react to it, and soon he felt pain shooting through him as she wrapped the appendage around Terry’s arms and abdomen, hitting every bruise and scrape that were there from the last two times they had fought. It lifted him high, and another appendage made itself known, her face, he realized. Even without expression, he could tell she was smug.

“Open wide,” she purred, and then she  _ squeezed _ , and something  _ cracked _ , and Terry  _ screamed _ .

An appendage was shoved down his throat and oh  _ god _ , Terry was suffocating. She was blocking his airflow, filling his lungs in a way that had his mind racing, panic overriding all other thoughts and functions. He tried to struggle. She squeezed harder. Dots of light danced in his vision as he choked, desperately trying to get  _ some _ amount of oxygen into his lungs, but nothing worked.

He was going to die. It wasn’t even the first time he had been faced with that, but before, he had been able to talk his way into Bruce letting him fight, letting him be Batman. There wasn’t any of that this time. There was only the helpless feeling of his burning lungs, his cracking bones, his stinging bruises. He was going to die.  _ He was going to die. _

His strength left him, his last bits of consciousness hanging on by a thread as his body went slack. 

Then, suddenly, he fell. 

He fell onto the cold, now-wet ground, and the first thing he did was cough so hard, it sounded like he was retching, the last vestiges of Inque spilling out from his lungs as he gasped for air. His throat felt raw, like he had been gargling rocks, and  _ everything _ hurt, but as far as he could tell, nothing was  _ actually _ broken like he feared. Small mercies, Terry figured.

“What took you?” Terry wheezed out, wiping his face as Damian made his way over to the teen. Terry figured he must’ve looked pretty shaken or pretty pathetic, because Damian’s eyes flashed with concern, even if the rest of his expression was passive. 

“Sudden case of shyness,” Damian said, and Terry was positive he must’ve still been woozy, because it sounded more like a joke than a serious answer. As the older man helped him up, Terry’s breath hitched and he groaned, holding his chest as it protested the movement. Okay. Those were  _ definitely _ bruised ribs, for  _ sure _ this time. He could barely  _ breathe _ without pain, much less move, but there wasn’t much time to worry about it, because suddenly, Inque was re-forming from the puddle, and Terry could tell she was  _ not _ thrilled about being blasted with a hose.

Of course, Terry was only guessing that, but seeing as how she started firing sharp projectiles from herself at them, he was pretty sure he was right. Terry barely managed to avoid them, having to do a backflip that had his body  _ screaming _ at him. Damian raised the hose again, attempting to spray her once more, but one of the projectiles severed the hose, and the water spilled onto the ground. Damian tossed the nozzle to the side with an annoyed growl.

“This isn’t good…,” Terry muttered, watching Inque as she slowly made her way towards--

“She’s heading upstairs!” Damian shouted, then, over the comms, “Oracle--”

“Got it,” Barbara said, and the door leading to the Manor was sealed shut. 

“Someone’s got a secret,” Inque taunted, then began to work on prying the door open. 

“She’s gonna get through!” Terry shouted, but before either he or Damian could move, the door let out sparks of electricity, causing Inque to be flung back with a shout.

“Not on my watch.”

“Oracle,” Terry said, a wide smile on his face. “You’re  _ amazing _ .”

“Oh, I know. Now, let’s take care of Miss Inque, shall we?”

Inque was churning and squirming just a few feet away before suddenly launching herself into the ceiling, tunneling through the rock. Terry’s body still ached, but adrenaline allowed him to stay alert, and something told him something  _ very _ bad was about to happen.

“The original Batman installed a layer of solid steel above the cave. She can’t get out through there, either,” Damian said. The cave began to shake, stalactites and other rocks falling from the ceiling.

“I think she has something else in mind…,” Terry said. 

“You two need to find a way out,  _ now _ ! I’m calling Bruce home and alerting Cass and Duke. Deal with Inque later, okay?”

“We are  _ not _ abandoning the Batcave!” Damian snapped, and Terry couldn’t help but think it was a  _ very  _ bad time for an argument. The entire cave was threatening to collapse inward, and suddenly, a  _ whole _ lot of it was about to hit Damian. 

Terry didn’t even think. 

“Look out!” Terry shouted, using his foot rockets to propel the two of them out of the way. He used his own already aching body to shield the older man from the brunt of the debris falling on them, but between the computer exploding and a  _ really _ large rock smacking into Terry, they both ended up sliding into the base of the giant penny. 

Terry’s entire body was on fire, his vision coming and going as he watched the scene unfold before him. Inque plopped down on the floor near them, and then, with barely any effort, grabbed the bottom of the penny and  _ pulled _ . She was going to crush them.

Neither he nor Damian had fully recovered yet, but Terry managed to tackle Damian, once again using the rockets to shove them both forward. Damian managed to clear the penny’s radius, but Terry yelped in pain as it pinned him to the ground by his left foot. He was stuck, and Inque was slowly approaching him.

Inque was  _ also _ standing on top of a giant, metal object.

Terry produced an electrified batarang and quickly smacked it against the giant coin, and he decided he would later deny being proud of the fact that he managed to do that without grunting in pain. Inque jumped away, sliding between the few still-upright trophy cases of the cave, menacingly smashing them with her now very sharp, _very_ _deadly_ appendage as she approached Terry.

She was playing with him. A predator toying with its prey. 

He was going to die, and when he did, he was going to leave Damian alone, waiting for back-up that may not even get there in time. 

_ No. He wasn’t going to let that happen. _

His eyes managed to hit something that looked like a gun and, running through what he knew about the old rogues, realized it may have been  _ exactly _ what he needed. He ignored his protesting body once more, sliding his foot out from underneath the coin with a loud groan, and made a mad dive for the gun, aiming up at Inque just in time to pull the trigger.

Instantly, she was frozen solid, shattering with a screech into dozens of pieces as she hit the stone floor of the cave. 

Terry stood up, swaying slightly as he did. Damian was there almost instantly, gently supporting the teen and keeping him from completely face-planting into the floor. 

“That’s it,” Terry managed, out of breath and in pain. “You people are showing me everything.”

Damian actually managed a small smile at that, and, for the second time since meeting him, Terry’s body collapsed into Damian’s arms, his mind falling into nothingness.

\---

“He did well tonight, all things considered.”

Damian sighed quietly, looking up from where he had been sitting vigil over Terry to his father at the door. With a nod from the younger man, Bruce stepped into the room, his eyes instantly hitting Terry’s unconcious form. Inque had been taken to the police by Duke while Damian and Bruce did their best to patch Terry up, putting him into one of the guest rooms to rest. Stephanie said she would come by sometime the next day to give him a look-over, which left Bruce and Damian with a much lighter weight on their shoulders.

But the weight was still very much there.

“We told his mother he had been caught up in the attack on the building tonight trying to get something for you from one of the offices there. She was…  _ distressed _ , to say the least.”

“I can imagine. She just lost her ex-husband, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like losing a son so soon afterwards.”

Damian made a noise of agreement, shifting his gaze back to Terry’s bruised, battered,  _ young _ face. “We told her the hospital released him, but told us to get him on bedrest as soon as possible. We took him to the Manor simply because we already had medical tools at the ready after your last health scare, and we told her we’d call with any updates.”

“Did it make her feel better?”

“From what I could tell, somewhat, yes.” Damian paused, took a breath, and bit the bullet. “He shouldn’t be Batman.”

“I know.”

“He is capable, and he has the potential, but-- Wait.” Damian turned to look at his father again, an eyebrow arched in confusion. “You… agree?”

“He’s a seventeen-year-old boy. He has a mother, a younger brother, a girlfriend, and several other friends at school. He should be spending his time enjoying what’s left of these years, not spending them trying to be  _ Batman _ .”

“Then why…?”

“When you first came to Gotham,” Bruce began, “You were so determined to be Robin, you would’ve done  _ anything _ to get there. You came to me, and there was nothing I could’ve done to talk you out of it. The same thing happened with Tim, Jason, Dick, and just about every other kid or young adult that’s ended up a vigilante in Gotham. 

“Terry took the suit himself, argued for his right to use it, and I knew there was no point in talking him out of it. He was just going to be like the rest of you, and try to find a way to do it without our help.”

“It was safer for us to allow it under our supervision,” Damian summarized, and Bruce nodded. Damian clenched his fists. “He’s lucky to even be alive, if he had to deal with Inque on his own, without the suit and without guidance, he’d be--”

“Yes. He would.”

“He’s a fool.” Damian’s voice was choked. 

“He’s a kid,” Bruce said gently, a tone he had come to use more often as he had gotten older, almost reminiscent of a certain Pennyworth. “A kid who wants to do the right thing. We all were, at one point or another.”

Damian didn’t say anything, and Bruce didn’t either. They didn’t have to. Instead, the older man pressed a comforting hand onto his son’s shoulder before leaving the room once more

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos appreciated!
> 
> yell at me on tumblr:
> 
> dc: gothamhell.tumblr.com  
> main: fandom-trash224.tumblr.com


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